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User blog:High Prince Imrahil/Imrahil and the Wedding Bells - Part 1
Imrahil jolted awake from a dream to the hazy form of Travian, his squire, standing above him "Imrahil, what's wrong with you?? It's very late and we have much to do today!!" "I had such a nice dream. . . I was sitting by a fireplace, and. . ." "No time for that! We've got an appointment with the Swan Council in a half hour, and then you decide cases for the peasants, and then your military commanders are having a meeting. . ." Travian droned on and on as Imrahil groggily himself for breakfast. "Dull. . ." said Imrahil absently, interrupting no. 27 on the list of appointments "Nothing but dull state business. . . don't we have any excitement anymore?" "Err. . .Well. . . " stammered Travian, surprised at Imrahil's blunt statement "We haven't had any corisair raids since The War finally came to an end. . . there's really no excitement unless you want to change your mind about joining The King on his campaign into the East. . . ." Travian looked closely at the prince "Something's bothering you, isn't it? You haven't been yourself lately, Imrahil." "No" said Imrahil with a sigh "Of course not. . . where were we? The meeting with the Wheat Guild?" Travian launched eagerly into the day's schedule again, not missing a beat from where he left off. "Oh!" said Travian part way through "And by the way, I scheduled you for dinner with Lady Lillian of Peligir." Imrahil's head snapped around to face Travian "YOU DID WHAT?!" "Well... Imrahil, you have not had so much as a conversation with an eligible noblewoman in weeks..." Imrahil knew where this was heading, and didn't like it at all. "Travian, I swear, if you're about to bring up another blasted marriage-" "Imrahil, Lady Lillian is very nice! And beautiful as well!" "Travian, can I even physically describe how much I REALLY don't care about how beautiful she is? Am I conveying that?" "But, Im'..." "Don't 'but Im'' me! I'm not going to get married until I'm well and ready, and that's final. Noblewomen are all alike: beautiful, kind, and the biggest idiots that ever walked this earth." "Imrahil..." "They don't have an ounce of common sense! And I'm not marrying a girl unless she can think for herself. Got it?" Travian mumbled a begrudged agreement and rambled back on into the days schedule "Travian" Imrahil said firmly "Scratch everything." "Imrahil?! exclaimed Travian "You heard me. Cancel all the appointments for the day. I need a day off, Travian, or I shall go mad." "But. . . but Imrahil!" stammered Travian "We can't simply cancel the appointments! Some have waited days to get into your court!" Imrahil thought for a moment "Then you'll have to stay, Travian." "Me?!" "Yes, you attend to the courtly matters today. Give the order to ready my horse, I'm going for a ride in the forest." "But. . . but Imrahil!" Travian was clearly unhappy with the suddenness of Imrahil's decision, and perhaps he was right. But Imrahil was speaking the truth when he said he felt like he was going mad, and that he needed some time in the beautiful forests of Dor-en-Ernil. Perhaps it was his elven blood getting the best of him. "We can't assemble the Royal Swan-Guard in time, Imrahil!" "Then I shall go without a bodyguard." "Imrahil?!" "Its the forest, Travian, and as much as I thank you for your concern, I really don't think a sudden assassination attempt will happen in the middle of my own kingdom in the wilderness." It took some debate, but Travian begrudgingly agreed to stay in Dol Amroth while Imrahil took a ride. "Ah, yes!" thought Imrahil, as he breathed in the fresh aspen air "This is truly what I have been needing!" The winding path came up through the woods into the Hills of Tarnost, where waterfalls cascaded from white cliffs into glistening pools. Imrahil felt so free, so alive. No bodyguards at left and right, no dignitaries or assistants. Just himself and the beauty of nature. Imrahil listened to the quiet calls of the birds. But then, he thought he heard something else. The sound of singing, as soft as the falling of rain, a sound like silver. "A wind by night in Northern lands, Arose, and loud it cried, And drove the ship from elven-strands, Acrossed the streaming tide," The lay of Nimrodel. Imrahil tied his horse to a tree and went off in search of the voice. Category:Blog posts